Sway
by maddiemoiselle
Summary: When Pippa's entire world comes crashing down, she must flee Salem and go to the only place she can be safe - Hogwarts. As she faces the consequences of her new identity, just how close will she let people get if it could mean risking their lives?
1. Whistle for the Choir

**Author's Note;** So, this is my first ever HP fanfic. I won't ask you to be gentle, but, you know, remember I have feelings, okay? I don't have much else to say, I just hope you enjoy the chapter. Let me know what you think!

**Disclaimer;** Harry Potter, in its entirety, belongs to JK Rowling. I claim no ownership.

_Well, it's a big, big city and it's always the same__  
><em>_Can never be too pretty, tell me your name__  
><em>_Is it out of line if I were simply bold to say,__  
><em>_"Would you be mine?"_  
><strong>Whistle for the Choir<strong> ; The Fratellis

My entire body felt like it was being torn apart. My chest was tight and, even though my eyes were squeezed shut, I could still feel myself being tossed and turned every which way. My stomach was heavy as if I'd drunk too much Firewhiskey. I wasn't strong enough for this. London was too far to apparate to, I'd told my mother. I was still underage; I'd only just learned how to do this. The Ministry of Magic would have my head if they were to find out. But she'd been adamant. Floo powder was risky. One mispronunciation and I could end up anywhere, fall into anyone's fireplace. Plane rides were too muggle, too lengthy. They could be tracked, crashed. It had to be apparation. I _had_ to apparate.

When I finally landed – hard – on what I hoped was the outskirts of London, I could feel the small trickle of sticky red blood down my leg. Splinched, but I had made it. I could tell just by looking up at the sky that this wasn't my Salem. It never would be. It wasn't safe there. I would never curl up in my dorm again, eating chocolate frogs with Alexis and Desirae. I would never attend another of our Quidditch games or sneak off campus to take the train to Boston to see the Pesky Pixies play a live, underground show. I would not attend the Halloween ball this year with Xander, as I'd promised. And he'd never know why I'd left or where I'd gone.

For the last 5 years, I'd been kept in the dark about exactly who I was. It had made it easier to stay under the radar. My magic may have started up, but I had been kept very well hidden throughout all these years at the Salem Institute of Magic. But curiosity had gotten the better of me, as it always did, and I ruined years of work and careful planning.

He'd found me. Found out about me.

And now I had to run.

**x x x**

I'd officially succeeded in catching the attention of nearly every passer-by in King's Cross Station. Which is quite a feat, let me tell you. You would think a train station that was ignorant to flocks of people disappearing into a brick wall would be less observant. Nevertheless, they'd all seen my graceful journey to the ground with my trunk landing beside me, spilling all sorts of knickknacks, followed by a particularly loud screech from an airborne cat carrier. Nonchalance is definitely my thing right now.

After dusting myself off and tossing my things back into the trunk, I eyed it warily. It looked unbelievably heavy and the idea of lifting it onto the cart was grotesquely unappealing. I bent over to embarrass myself all over again then shot back up, suddenly remembering my cat's short cameo as a pilot. The masses had moved on from my humiliation and were now shuffling loudly about the platform, blocking my view as I searched the crowds for the cat carrier.

"Pandora!" My voice faded in among the chatter and footsteps and I frowned. She was still small – she'd be crushed if she'd fallen out of the carrier. Who had allowed me, irresponsible and reckless, to assume care for a living, breathing creature? On only the first day, I had managed to trip and lose Pandora. What a bad omen this school was turning out to be.

A high-pitched and very familiar "Mew" broke me from my negativity. I smiled, perking up as I turned toward the sound.

"I assume this belongs to you?"

I rushed forward and gathered Pandora into my arms, nuzzling my nose into her head as she purred. She'd been a stray when I'd found her, malnourished and wandering London back alleys. A Siamese-looking cat with creamy white fur and dark brown smudges on her face and paws as if she'd trailed through a batch of brownie mix and then attempted to wipe the batter off on her face. She was overwhelmingly fluffy (I suspected her of being part Persian) with wide, cross-eyed bright blue eyes. She was gorgeous and the smug bastard knew it. A cat like her had not belonged on the street.

Far later than I probably should have, I lifted my head to thank the stranger who'd found Pandora and brought her back to me. I was pleasantly surprised. A tall, lanky boy stood before me with unkempt brown hair and dark eyes. He bordered on skinny, but compensated with toned, strong-looking muscles. There were bags under his eyes as if he'd recently had trouble sleeping and, for some reason, I felt a brief pang of concern for his well-being. I noticed his amused smile and commonsense reminded me of just how blatantly I'd been checking him out. Red burned my cheeks and I bit my lip by way of apologizing.

"Thank you," I finally managed to say, cuddling Pandora to my chest. His eyes appraised me and I realized he was giving me a similar once-over to the one I'd given him. My body went slightly rigid though, damn it, I was trying to be relaxed. I couldn't help but wish I'd straightened my hair out as my blonde curls were probably looking more wild than smooth after my fall. I was, however, satisfied with my white lace sundress that just grazed my mid-thigh. It managed to make me look curvier and tanner than I actually am. I glanced down at my feet, admiring my new moccasins, before deciding the silence had stretched on long enough. "I'm still trying to get used to your damned English cobblestones."

The boy laughed lightly and extended his hand for me to shake. "Remus Lupin."

"Pippa Moore." I took his hand carefully, now recognizing a problem. Was I expected to further this interaction? I had a train to catch and, if I missed it, there was nowhere for me to go. And what if this boy – Remus – offered to walk me to my platform? Platform 9 ¾ doesn't exist to muggles! And what kind of a name was Remus, anyway? Without being asked, he wandered over to my cart and lifted the trunk onto it. I would have been relieved if not for the fact that I _needed _to get rid of Prince Charming over here. "No need for the gentlemen act, Remus." I said airily, trying to keep my tone light and playful. "I've got my cart from here."

"It's the trolley I was helping," he started, his accent making me melt. English boys were not good for my concentration. Hogwarts here I come, right? "I had to save it from taking another nose dive into our 'damned English cobblestones'." He attempted to mimic my American accent. It was so adorable I forgot I was meant to be ditching him. "So you're a transfer?"

I blinked at him. Did he think I was going to his posh little British muggle school? Oh boy, how did I get out of this? "Excuse me?"

It was the best strategy I had – buy more time in an attempt to come up with a better strategy than playing dumb. But the poor kid looked panicked.

"Oh, bloody hell," he cursed, covering his eyes with his hand. "Don't tell me you've been at Hogwarts this whole time and I've never-"

"OH!" I interrupted, relief flooding my body. I held up my hand to stop his ramblings and laughed. So Remus here was a wizard, too. "Hogwarts, of course! I'm a transfer from the Salem Institute."

"Salem, really?" He nodded, at ease once more. He gave me a friendly smile. "And what brought you here?"

My expression darkened. The question was casual enough, but the answer was not something I wanted – or even could – share with this random wizard boy. I opened my mouth to use my excellent excuse-making skills and come up with something, anything, to get away from this topic when I was saved by a voice calling over the crowd.

"Oi, Moony!" A boy emerged, pushing roughly through bands of people to reach Remus (Moony?). He had a youthful and confident look to him. His dark, nearly black, hair fell over his hazel eyes in a haircut you just knew his mother hated. It was messy and long, but only seemed to compliment his goofy grin. He was built like an athlete. From prior knowledge, I could just tell he was a Quidditch player. Chaser, most likely. He looked like he could fly fast. He enveloped Remus into a hug fit for brothers and I shifted awkwardly, unsure whether to leave or not. As I moved to collect my cart, James's eyes caught mine and he released Remus.

"James, this is Pippa Moore. Pippa, James Potter." Remus used all the appropriate hand gestures and his polite smile made me think this may be the most legitimate introduction I'd ever had. "She's a transfer from the Salem Institute."

"Salem as in… America?" James said slowly. The way he crinkled his nose made it seem like a bad thing.

"Is that where that is? And all these years I've been thinking I was Canadian, eh?" I snipped, eyes narrowed. If this boy made one joke about being American, I'd remove his tongue. It was a rather simple spell, after all.

"Oh, Sirius is going to love you!" James beamed, to my surprise. He looked to Remus excitedly but the emotion didn't seem to be reciprocated.

"Where is Padfoot, anyway?" Remus asked, subtly changing the subject. I, however, was still concerned about this Sirius person and why Yenta over here was already plotting our love affair.

"Hm? Oh, the tosser's probably still with my mum and dad. He didn't have someone to push his trolley for him." James grinned triumphantly, as if his parents pushing his cart for him was something to be proud of.

"Are you and Sirius brothers?" I asked, half out of politeness and half out of curiosity. This seemed to be a very tight knit group.

Remus answered "No" at the same time that James answered "Yes". I didn't bother to hide my confusion, raising an eyebrow at the pair. Remus gave the other boy a look and James pouted.

"Well, we might as well be," he amended.

As if to prove this point, a cart came crashing into James's side and he toppled over, landing hard on the ground as I had earlier.

"That's for being such a bloody wanker!" The assailant cried angrily, running a hand through his hair.

I, on the other hand, was frozen to my spot – seriously rooted there as if I'd sprouted branches and planted myself right into the cobblestone. The boy before me (Sirius, I presumed) was by far one of the most attractive I'd ever seen. His appeal wasn't unconventional, like Remus's, or boyish like James's. It was in-your-face and unignorable. His hair was raven black and appeared soft to the touch. He had that lust-worthy "V"-shaped body and I just knew that, if I were to play a game of peek-a-boo with the hem of his shirt, I'd find a nice set of abs staring back at me. His steel gray eyes were fixed on me when I found them and they flickered mischievously, daring me to be the one to look away first.

"Well, hello, love," He practically purred. A cocky smirk fixed onto his face and I pursed my lips, instantly turned off. Why were all the pretty ones so deluded? "What's your name?"

I scoffed. "Don't worry about it."

James, who had finally gotten himself up off the ground, almost collapsed back onto it again in laughter. Even Remus produced a chuckle. Sirius, however, did not seem to appreciate the reality check. I turned my gaze away from him and back to Remus, who still had my cart. I walked over to him and pulled the cart in my direction.

"I should get to my compartment," I told him and he smiled knowingly.

"Share ours!" James cried, out of breath from his fit.

"You're a Hogwarts student?" Sirius practically choked. He still hadn't restored his confidence. I gave him a mocking look.

"Sure am, _love_," I cooed, facing James and flashing him a brilliant smile. "And I'd love to share a compartment with you boys."

**x x x**

The boys were, apparently, something of celebrities at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry. Remus told me they called themselves "The Marauders", to which I replied that, in America at least, naming yourselves after a group of outlaws would get you beaten up, not praised. Besides, it was a cocky thing to do. My fellow witches of Hogwarts didn't seem to share that sentiment. We could hardly make it down the corridor with all of the people merging from their compartments to say _hello_. Girls were flipping their hair and batting their eyelashes. It was more pathetic than amusing and Remus's expression told me he felt the same way. James and Sirius, however, ate it up

We finally fell into a compartment all the way in the back and I sighed.

"Merlin, could they get any more desperate?" I laughed, settling into a seat by the window and allowing Pandora to curl up on my lap. Remus smiled at my comment and took the seat beside me, leaving the other two to sit across from us.

"What, people don't shag in America?" Sirius asked, his eyes innocent but his tone so condescending I could almost taste it. I pursed my lips, annoyed.

Leaving Salem had not been what I'd wanted. I'd spent most of my life there and it was home, it was all I knew. I'd had friends there, one's I trusted. Everyone had known about my blood status and they'd all, for the most part, accepted it. Okay, Veela, no big deal. I was just another wizard. Now, at Hogwarts, I'd have to redefine myself all over again. Defend myself all over again. Prove I am not just my blonde hair and blue eyes – I'm a witch. And a damn powerful one at that; but the thought of where that power came from was enough to make my blood boil.

"Well, _there_ you are, Pippa!" cried a girl from the doorway. I stared blankly at her pretty red hair and freckles for a good minute before mentally confirming that, no, I definitely did not know this girl.

"Here I am?" I said hesitantly, eyeing the boys. Judging from the various expressions on their faces, they certainly seemed to know her.

"Lily Evans, Gryffindor Prefect," she nodded proudly, wedging herself in between Remus and myself. I spared her an incredulous look, but she paid it no mind. "Dumbledore asked me to make sure you were settled."

Dumbledore – a name I was familiar with, considering he was essentially saving my life. Transfers among Wizarding schools were extremely rare and not entirely easy to get approved. Dumbledore, however, was quick to make an arrangement, according to my mother. He knew very well who I was, but had done everything necessary to get me here – including covering my ass after the apparation incident. I had yet to meet him and the man was already my hero.

Nevertheless, I couldn't grasp why he'd send a _Gryffindor_ Prefect to check on me. I had yet to be sorted, but…

The compartment door opened once more, interrupting my thoughts, and a short, rat-faced boy entered. He was awkward yet mildly adorable looking – like a little boy you instinctively wanted to help. His moody expression, however, chased the warm, maternal feeling away.

"Peter!" James smiled, standing up to clap him on the back. Peter gave him a shy smile, but his eyes continued to dart toward me. James followed his gaze and beamed, as if I was something he'd caught and he was dying to show off. He guided Peter over to the seat beside him. "Peter Pettigrew, Pippa Moore. She rejected Sirius earlier."

"Did you really?" Lily quipped, watching me with, what appeared to be, newfound respect.

I gave an exasperated sigh. The last thing I needed to be known for was rejecting the, seemingly, most popular boy in school. That would really get my reputation as a frigid bitch going. I tried to keep my tone light, as not to seem defensive. "I'm good for much more than that, I assure you."

"Oh, I bet you are," Sirius smirked, the suggestive innuendo clear. I narrowed my eyes, contemplating. Would it completely ruin what these people thought of me if I were to pounce across the seats and attack this insufferable jerk head on? If he kept acting this way, I almost didn't care.

Remus cleared his throat, sensing the need to change the subject. "So, Pippa, do you play Quidditch?"

His question caught my attention and I tore my murderous glare away from Sirius to smile at him. Quidditch was something all of us seemed to have in common.

**x x x**

Once less hostile conversation had been established, the train ride went by quickly and smoothly. I was amazed how much I had in common with the group, including that jackass Sirius Black. They all seemed very spirited in their interest in Quidditch and James and Sirius were on the team at Hogwarts. Even though I wasn't a player, Xander had taught me everything I needed to know. I'd even briefly been a commentator at the Salem Institute. They were pranksters – "Except Remus here," James had laughed. "He remains a spectator." I wouldn't deny my mischievous side; I even conceded that I'd bought some exploding snaps while in London. And, most importantly, they were lively. True Massachusetts folk could talk about a mile a minute and I was impressed that, not only could they keep up, they helped set the tone.

Lily and James bickered like an old married couple. He was head over heels for her and she was very into him – though she did an excellent job of hiding it. It was obviously a source of amusement for the others. Sirius loved egging them on and even Remus snuck in a snide comment or two. Peter was content to chuckle and agree with everything Sirius said.

We'd just begun to discuss classes at Hogwarts when the compartment door flew open again. Sirius was at his feet in an instant, wand drawn, with James, Peter, and Remus following after. Lily's face paled and I couldn't help but notice her hands itch for her wand as well.

"Relax, boys," the figure smirked. He was certainly striking – his tousled blond hair and flawless fair skin contrasted brilliantly with his bright blue eyes. His crisp accent sounded much more posh than the other boys and the way he carried himself, you knew he was from money. Aside from his apparent superiority complex, I couldn't grasp why the boys found him to be such a threat. The intruder held up his hands in surrender, but the smirk remained. "There's no need for wands."

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Sirius growled, unflinching from his stance. Despite the fact that this probably wasn't the most appropriate situation for the realization, I couldn't help but notice that Sirius looked good all riled up.

"I'm here to see Miss Moore," he conceded. His gave flicked to me, but I was at a loss. The others gave me confused, somewhat accusing looks but I didn't know how to respond. Why did people here know me when I didn't know these people? Everyone seemed to be waiting for me to make a move, so I sat up and faced Malfoy.

"Uhm, I'm sorry, do I know you?" I managed, immediately knowing it was a student question. His grin confirmed it.

"Lucius Malfoy," he purred, extending his hand to me. Not wanting to be rude and, frankly, slightly enamored, I took it. He twisted my hand gently, bringing it to his lips to kiss it. There was a collective noise of discontent from Lily and the Marauders as he met my bewildered gaze. "I'm a friend of your father's."

My hand was ripped from his grip so fast even he seemed shocked. Pandora fell to the floor, but I was moving too quickly to notice. In record time, I was standing inches from him with my wand pressed to his throat.

"Stay away from me," I hissed, my voice angrier and more dangerous than I'd ever known it could go. Lucius had recovered from his initial shock and returned to his original smirk, despite the wands aimed at him. As if my wand wasn't pressing into his skin, he leaned forward until his lips were right by my ear. I heard someone behind me shuffle then stop, obviously having been held back.

"You cannot run from him anymore." His voice was too low for the others to hear, but chills broke out all throughout my body. He gave me a final, knowing smile and left the compartment without another word. I continued to stand there, staring at the door like a hopeless idiot.

My mother had promised Hogwarts was safe. She'd said, if there was anywhere in the world I could be protected, it was here. And yet, on my first day, he had found me. He had eyes on me. How long before he came for me?

"Are you alright, Pippa?" Remus asked softly. I opened my mouth to answer him but another voice interrupted me.

"Who is your father?"

**xxx**


	2. Boom

**Author's Note;** So here's the second chapter. I'm not sure how everyone is liking it – if I should continue or rewrite – so make sure to let me know! I want you to enjoy reading as much as I do writing. This chapter may seem like it's moving quickly, but there is just a lot of information I need to get through so the story can really get going. Hang in here with me, I promise it'll be worth it!

**Disclaimer;** Everything you recognize belongs to JK Rowling.

_I'm getting myself in something I don't wanna_

_I'm getting caught up in him but I don't wanna_

_I'm getting off track_

_And I can't control a thing, a thing_

**Boom** ; Anjulie

"Who is your father?"

I turned abruptly to face Sirius, my face expressing my frustration. Of all of the people present, he would be the one to ask the inappropriate question. The one, I knew, everyone else was dying to know but too polite to ask. For a moment, we just stared openly at one another, his offensive glare fighting my defensive one.

"He's a Death Eater," I said evenly, my face expressionless. I would not betray anything.

A flash of sympathy flickered in Sirius's eyes. I caught it before he could hide it and his gaze diverted from me as if ashamed of his ability to show compassion. Pandora mewed softly and I frowned, scooping her up. I cuddled her to me, half to apologize for dropping her and half to avoid the pitiful stares I was receiving.

"We'll be arriving soon," Remus pointed out, breaking the silence.

"Come on, Pippa, I'll show you where you can change into your robes." Lily placed her hand on my shoulder, standing up to guide me from the compartment.

It was surreal to me how accepting this group was. How willing they were to overlook my family's background, though they'd only just met me. It was enough to make me feel guilty for lying to them; but they couldn't know the truth. My knowledge of it was dangerous enough.

**x x x**

"It's a castle," I breathed, staring out from the carriage as we approached the school. We had, of course, heard about Hogwarts's extravagance at the Salem Institute, but, until now, I had thought it to be exaggerated.

"It's home." I glanced at Sirius out of the corner of my eye, surprised by him once again. Maybe I had judged him too quickly. Maybe there was more to him than a cocky smile and good hair.

Lily and Remus had disappeared to do Prefect duties, leaving me to share a carriage with James, Peter, and Sirius. Lily had tried to usher me off into the boats with the first years, but James had fought her on it. I couldn't help but notice their Gryffindor robes with a shred of remorse. I had hoped to be in the same house as them and, though I had yet to officially be sorted, I knew where I was going to end up. Blood ran too deep.

"Are you nervous?" Peter asked me and I nearly jumped at the sound of his voice. He'd proven to be rather shy and quiet so far, which was surprising considering the company he kept.

James laughed, swinging his arm around my shoulders and hugging me to him. "'Course she's not! All the knockouts are Gryffindors."

"You just say that because Lily is a Gryffindor," I joked, rather than dismiss his prediction. James frowned.

"Oi, am I that obvious?" He whined, burying his face in my shoulder.

"Yes," Sirius, Peter, and I answered at once. The three of us erupted into a fit of hysterics. James looked indignant.

"Well, ya' gits will see," he mumbled. "She'll come around."

We really tried our hardest not to laugh this time. Really, we did. But he was just so pouty and determined! All it took was me finally exploding before Sirius and Peter were joining in once more.

**x x x**

When we had actually arrived at the castle, Lily appeared out of nowhere and shuffled me away to join the first years. I felt rightly out of place, being 5 years older than the rest of the group, but managed to grin and bear it. Lily had left me there with a gentle hand-squeeze and an enthusiastic "Good luck!" before rushing off to herd the younger students. She was really in her element, standing there and bossing them all around.

Was it too late to run for the hills? The idea blindsided me, but I found my stress level rising and my thoughts going along with it. What was I _doing_ here? I mean, aside from the obvious running for my life thing. Why did everyone think I could just drop into this new wizarding school and assume the role of just another teenage witch? I was an outsider, trespassing into a world they'd all been living in for 5 years together already.

I could live my life as a vagabond. Right now, I could run out the front of the school, hop on my broom, and fly as far as it would take me. Maybe I'd find my mother and we could be runaways together. We could disappear into the muggle world, with their automobiles and this odd, herbal thing that Desirae had shown me once that you set on fire and _inhaled_ and it made you cough and act all loopy. Rather strange, those muggles.

I was beginning to seriously consider bolting when an older, sharp-looking woman approached. She was wearing a tall, black witch's hat that covered her graying brown hair, pulled back into a tight bun. Her face was etched with signs of aging, but her authority was undeniable.

"Don't worry yourself, dear," She assured me, putting her hand on my shoulder. "The Sorting Hat knows where to put you."

"I already know." I didn't need a ratty old hat to confirm the fate I knew I was resigned to.

"Don't be so sure, Miss Moore."

I lifted my head to look at her and she gave me a small, knowing smile. I wondered – did she know? Did all of the professors know? Surely, if they did, this woman would understand that my destiny is already decided for me. It's set in stone. It would be absolute crazy talk for anyone to suggest anything else. As if sensing my disbelief, she eyed me seriously.

"We are not our parents."

But wasn't I? I was surely my mother's daughter – with my thick blonde hair, blue eyes, and clever tongue. My mother had always told me that the Veela blood was strong in me. "You've been tongue-tying boys since you could smile", she'd tell me. And I was also my father's child. I had his confidence, I'd been told. His affluence for magic. His selfishness, as I've recently discovered.

Though, that wasn't all I was. I may have her beauty, but she didn't possess my restraint. My longing to be more than just "that half-Veela girl". My desire to be taken seriously. I may have his intelligence and power, but he lacked my kindness, my loyalty. Whether my differences were enough to make up for our similarities, I didn't know. I doubted it.

"Thank you, Professor…" I trailed off, realizing I didn't know her name.

"McGonagall," she finished.

"Thank you, Professor McGonagall."

She nodded before disappearing into the crowd of first years and I hung back, feeling oddly comforted.

**x x x**

I watched the other students each, in turn, approach the stool and have the Sorting Hat placed on their heads. The anxiety was overwhelming; you could see it on their faces and feel it in the air. How did these kids deal with that pressure? They had to have their own expectations to live up to. Everyone had something to prove, even at that age, right?

The sorting process didn't take as long as I'd expected and, soon, it was only me standing onstage, being gawked at and judged by my new peers. Transfers being rare had been an understatement – I was a damn circus side show.

"Our final student is a 6th year transfer from America," McGonagall clarified. Why not just paint an American flag on my face and be done with it? She waved me forward and, with a deep breath, I set my shoulders back and steadied myself onto the stool. "Miss Pippa Moore."

There was whispering everywhere around the room. People were pointing and gossiping and I could only imagine the sorts of rumors I'd have to face here. The mystery behind my arrival was likely to be quite the conversation starter. What did new kids do to keep the attention away from them nowadays? I hadn't been one since I was 11. And, even then, we'd all been new.

Merlin, what if all these people sucked? Was it possible to meet people as loveable as Desirae, Alexis, and Xander? What if they were all egotistical ass hats like Sirius? Aren't British people supposed to be seriously stuck up? Maybe that was the French; or was it all Europeans? I had fully begun to enter panic mode when McGonagall dropped the hat onto my head and the entire dining hall went deaf to my ears.

_Well, look what we have here._ I couldn't hide the quick intake of breath. Whatever I had been expecting, this certainly hadn't been it. Was the hat supposed to talk to me? Its voice was gruff and mocking, not at all soothing. _I know just where to put you._ I bit my lip so hard I could taste the iron of blood in my mouth. As much as I had resigned myself to Slytherin, I couldn't help but hope with all my might that it wasn't what the hat was going to call out.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"What?" The hat was pulled from my head and the house table went wild, drowning out my startled response. Almost mechanically, I stood up from the stool. This couldn't be happening. I was _meant_ to be in Slytherin. My eyes involuntarily searched for Dumbledore and found him at the Head table, asking more questions than I could possibly voice. As if in response, he raised his clapping hands to me and nodded.

No answers there, then. I headed out among the tables, taking the empty seat that had been made for me beside James. The Marauders cheers-ed my arrival and, as the table filled with food, the hall was instantly abuzz with excited chatter.

"What'd I tell ya, Pip?" James laughed, obviously very proud of his prediction. I gave him what I hoped to be a convincing smile. "Just wait. Now that you're a Gryffindor, we can teach you all of the Marauder secrets."

"Oi!" Sirius grumbled, reaching over the table to smack him upside the head. "They're not secrets if we start telling people. We don't even know the girl."

"_The girl_ is sitting right here, mate." The boys all turned to face Remus, clearly taken aback that he'd stand up to them. Rather than back down, Sirius seemed to take this as a challenge and the boys began arguing. Despite the fact that said argument involved me, I didn't bother to listen in.

Gryffindor. It was impossible. I had to be dreaming. Had I fallen asleep on the train and made this all up in my head? More likely, maybe I'd knocked myself out when I'd fallen down at the train station. Was this some sort of messed up, coma-inspired dream?

Still uneasy, I tucked a stray piece of hair behind my ear and peered over my shoulder at the Slytherin table. I felt someone staring at me and located a familiar shock of white blond hair. We locked eyes, his gaze penetrating, burning a hole right through me. With a twisted smile, Lucius dragged his finger along his neck. I shivered, breaking our stare and turning back to the feast.

**x x x**

"Phoenix feathers."

The statue began twisting around to reveal a spiral staircase. For the Headmaster of the school, this man seemed pretty hard to get to. I guess that was the point, but really. Hidden behind a statue? I paused for only a moment, watching the stairs grow to their full height before continuing on to what had brought me here – Dumbledore's office.

The feast was over. The first years were being directed into their common rooms, meeting their new house and dorm mates, unpacking their trunks. A small voice nudged at me that I should be doing the same thing. I should be settling in. But I couldn't go where I was sure I didn't belong and I didn't belong in Gryffindor.

As I knocked on the large, wooden door, it occurred to me that it _was_ the first day and the Headmaster of the school was likely too busy to be lazing around his office. He was probably off monitoring the halls or making sure kids weren't being idiots or, I don't know, something Headmaster-like. I frowned, scolding myself for being selfish enough to assume he would be at my disposal 24/7.

I was turning to leave when the door creaked open slowly, allowing me entrance. I took a few, hesitant steps before finding my nerve once more and marching ahead. Dumbledore was bent over his desk, his quill sliding easily over whatever he was writing.

"Gryffindor?" I demanded, my tone impatient. I even surprised myself with my sudden anger and frustration. I stopped right before his desk but he had yet to acknowledge my presence.

"Miss Moore, I had assumed you would come find me," he said calmly, as if I hadn't just barked at him. He dropped his quill back into the inkwell and lifted his head to face me.

"Headmaster," I pleaded. This shouldn't be so confusing. Obviously, the Sorting Hat had made a mistake. He had to know. "This is ridiculous. Honestly, I can't be –"

"But can't you?" He interrupted.

I pursed my lips, my knuckles tightening until they turned white, and my eyes narrowing. "You know who I am. What I'm capable of. Merlin, that sounds so melodramatic but it's true. I'm dangerous. My being here puts other students at risk. Someone could get hurt and it would be _my fault_. Yet, you accept me into your school. You arrange special accommodations so that I can be here and get me out of some serious shit with the Ministry. And you've never even met me! And I come here, knowing full well that I can get someone killed. I cower from my father and I'm too selfish to care that people are going to get hurt all because I can't handle this by myself."

This was probably more than he had bargained for, as far as responses go. My breathing was ragged and I don't think I'd taken a single breath in that entire speech. My chest heaved and my lip quivered, my eyes were watery with unshed tears. But didn't I deserve to crack? I'd been running and hiding and wondering for weeks and no one had let me break down. No one had given me any answers. I let out a sarcastic laugh, shaking my head as I wiped at my eyes. "Tell me, do I sound like a Gryffindor?"

He didn't answer me at first and I eventually felt like I had been standing there for hours. Here I was, desperate to have someone explain things to me, and the only man who could do so remained silent. His gaze weighed heavily on me and I knew he had the answers I needed. He had to. Who else would? He opened his mouth to speak and I leaned forward, eager to know.

"Yes."

I waited for him to continue, but as he reclined back in his chair it became clear he was finished.

"Are you joking?" I cried. My voice was high-pitched and bordered on insane, but I was livid. Why did no one else see that I had the blood of a monster? "Because of me, my mother has to run. I'm not even allowed to know where she is! I can't write her to tell her I'm okay. I can't know _she's_ okay. I uncover one secret and a hundred more take its place."

I paused, realizing I was rambling. I couldn't think about my mother; how I had basically ruined her life. I never even got to apologize. Just say goodbye, and hardly that. I shelved the thought away. It was too painful to think about right now. This didn't have to be about her. I collected myself, steering back on track. "I just don't understand."

"Miss Moore, when you discovered who your father was, you chose not to join him. You denied the chance to become a Death Eater and, instead, you fled his power. How many of your classmates can say they stood up to that kind of pressure? Aside from Mr. Black, of course."

"Black?" I stared at Dumbledore, my interest peaked. Did he mean Sirius?

Dumbledore only smiled. That damn, omnipotent smile. "You should return to your room."

"But you haven't answered me." I was not leaving without knowing.

"Answered what?"

I narrowed my eyes at him. Was he always so difficult? "Why am I in Gryffindor?"

"The Sorting Hat remains a mystery even to me."

"But you must have known – or at least guessed! You sent Lily to check on me on the train. Why not a Slytherin?"

"Miss Evans is far more welcoming, don't you agree?"

It was beginning to feel impossible to get a straight answer from this man. Why were wise people always so complex? It was like they enjoyed talking in riddles! As if sensing my distress, Dumbledore leaned forward and watched me carefully.

"You are not your father."

What – was there some kind of informational session with teachers as to what to say to me when I cracked? I met his gaze. "How can you be so sure?"

"Your father never even acknowledged the safety of others."

The phrase did little to comfort me. My father's callousness was not the issue. The blood of Salazar Slytherin himself ran through my veins. Sure, it was diluted, but it was there. Wasn't that all that mattered?

"It's his magic that I share."

"That magic is yours and yours alone. Only you can decide what to do with it. And that matters far, far more than heritage."

Okay, so maybe he had a point. I'd gone my whole life not knowing who my father was and my magic had never made me feel like a bad person, capable of killing someone. But it didn't change that fact that, somehow, our power was linked. That had to count for something. Made me more easily corruptible, maybe.

"Thank you, Headmaster." I was suddenly overcome with exhaustion. I couldn't stand here and argue this never-ending argument anymore. Best to just let him think he's won and book it out of here. Dumbledore nodded to me, permitting me to leave and I returned the gesture before making my exit. I was reaching for the handle – so, _so_ close – when his voice called me back.

"Miss Moore." I looked over my shoulder. "He cannot get you here."

"You can say his name. I don't fear it," I told him, but he didn't respond. "I am Voldemort's daughter, after all."

The weight of the name was even heavy on my tongue. Without another word, I left his office and disappeared back into the corridor.

**xxx**


	3. I Must Belong Somewhere

**Author's Note;** I've been getting such positive feedback that I got a burst of energy to write another chapter! And, you know, I've also had a cold so all I can do is sit around in bed and write. Enjoy the chapter!

**Disclaimer;** Unfortunately, I'm not JK Rowling. Sorry.

'_Cause everything, it must belong somewhere_

_A train off in the distance, bicycle chained to the stairs_

_Everything, it must belong somewhere_

_I know that now, that's why I'm staying here_

**I Must Belong Somewhere** ; Bright Eyes

_I am Voldemort's daughter._ I hadn't said it aloud before, I realized. Throughout all I had been through these past weeks, throughout all of the hiding and secrecy, I had never been given the chance to address my situation aloud. After all, aside from me, my mother, Voldemort, Dumbledore, McGonagall, and, apparently, Lucius Malfoy, nobody even knew such a person existed – let alone who they were.

"I am Voldemort's daughter," I repeated to myself.

"Those are dangerous words." A voice came from behind me and I nearly jumped out of my skin before spinning around to face the source. The corridor was shrouded in darkness, making it difficult to make out their features. "You should be more careful; never know who could overhear you."

My entire body had gone tense. I could feel my fingernails digging into my palm and the pressure of my jaw clenching my teeth together. I knew this voice. As they approached, my fears were confirmed and Lucius's smirk could be seen in the moonlight streaming in.

"Lucius." I tried to keep my tone even. I would not be scared of some over-privileged, hair-obsessed bastard. Even if all signs point to Death Eater.

"You father is rather displeased with you, Pippa." He stopped only inches in front of me. I resisted the urge to back up, standing my ground with my back straight and gaze unyielding. "He is willing to overlook your foolishness."

"How kind of him," I snarled. Lucius released a large, mocking laugh.

"Feisty, are we? I've always fancied the lively ones."

"Fuck off." Real great comeback, Pippa. What are we, 2nd years? Despite how very graceful and witty my comeback was, Lucius's face fell and it brought an end to the _playful_ banter. Results.

"Your father has instructed me to deliver you to him."

I scoffed. Voldemort, a man I had never met before and had zero intention of meeting, was asking his followers to "deliver" me to him; like I was a pizza or something, rather than his own flesh and blood.

"So you're his errand boy then?" I taunted. Lucius's face contorted in anger. "Tell me, how does it feel to have someone own your ass? You're no better than a house elf, really."

"You bloody bitch!" He reached out, grabbing a fistful of my hair. I twisted to escape his grip, but it only pulled harder on my scalp and I cried out. He laughed in triumph and I readied my lips, sucking in and spitting in his face.

The spit landed directly in his eye and he grumbled, releasing me and stumbling backward. Without his hold keeping me up, I lost balance and fell to the floor.

His wand was already out of his robes, aimed directly at me. As if it would offer some form of protection, I brought my arm up to cover my eyes, forcing them shut. This was it. He'd either kill me or take me to my father. As much as I knew it would be the latter option, I'd rather be dead.

"_Petrific-_"

"_Expelliarmus!_"

I opened my eyes just in time to see Lucius sail through the air into the wall, his wand leaving his hand. Scanning the area around me for my savior, I became more and more confused as my search turned up no one. I opened my mouth to call out when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I released an ear-piercing scream, scrambling to get away.

"Wouldya' calm down?" An irritated voice commanded and I stiffened. I rotated my head to the right a bit and was met with a pair of cold, gray eyes.

"Sirius?" My voice was a mixture of relief and confusion. Before he could answer, I gasped and eyed him warily. "How much did you hear?"

"Pippa!" Footsteps were running toward us at high-speed and our attention shifted from the topic at hand. Remus had his wand out, at the ready, but dropped it as he fell to his knees beside me. "Are you alright?"

"When did you get here?" I persisted, disregarding Remus's question to continue Sirius and I's conversation. Had he overheard anything? Did he know too much?

"What was Malfoy saying to you?" Sirius demanded, ignoring me; but the inquiry spared me a moment of relaxation. He didn't know.

"Malfoy?" Remus only looked confused before glancing around and seeing him lying on the ground. The sight of an unconscious student seemed to snap him back into Prefect mode. He made his way over to Lucius and sighed before looking back at Sirius and I. He just stood there for a moment, watching us. "I have to fetch Madam Pomfrey."

"How'd you get blood on your hands?" Sirius's question surprised me and my gaze went for Remus's hands, trying to locate the blood. It wasn't until they turned up clean that I realized he was talking to me.

"What?" I breathed, holding my sticky, red palms up to my face. My blood or his? The initial shock started to fade; the crescent-shaped wounds making themselves known. I'd dug my fingernails in so hard I'd broken skin. I stared up at the two boys, shaking my head. "I don't need the nurse. I'm fine."

"Don't be an idiot. You're bleeding."

"I said I'm _fine_," I snipped at Sirius.

"Stop being such a bloody stubborn bi-"

"Enough!" Remus gave Sirius a stern look and his friend squirmed under the weight of it. For all of Sirius's rough talking, Prefect Remus seemed to have a fairly good hold on his friend. "Go back to the common room." I picked my head up to protest, but one look from Remus silenced me. I guess Prefect Remus worked on anyone. He turned back to Sirius, watching him carefully. "Make sure she gets there alright."

Sirius's jaw was set like he wanted to fight the order, but neither of us made a sound as we stood. Remus seemed to have taken on a whole new persona and the well-mannered, easy-going boy from the train station was nowhere to be found. Give a boy a dash of authority and this is what happens.

Yet, at the same time, it was somewhat refreshing to see Remus in this new light. He'd been so laidback before that I was beginning to wonder if he was too passive for his rowdy group of friends, getting caught up in their trouble because he was too much of a nice guy to put his foot down. It was good to know his friends respected him enough to take him and his Prefect position seriously.

Sirius walked much faster than I did and I found myself stumbling to keep up, not wanting to lose him. There were so many twists and turns and dead-end corridors. I didn't know this castle and I'd need him to find Gryffindor tower.

"Would you slow down?" I yelled, finally breaking. I was the one who had just been attacked. What did he have to be so angry about? Unless he _had_ heard.

I held my tongue, wondering if I'd been wrong before in my assumption. Had I jumped to conclusions? Given myself a false sense of security? Could he know? Was that why he was so eager to get away from me? Who would he tell first? Where would I go once I had to leave Hogwarts?

"What were you doing with Malfoy?" He had stopped several paces ahead and turned around to face me. I halted, thrown by his aggression. But, this time, I didn't let my guard down.

"He attacked me." I tilted my head, confused. Hadn't that been obvious? _Petrificus Totalus_ wasn't exactly a spell you used on your closest friends. Maybe he was testing me, trying to see if I would admit to what had been said. I pursed my lips. Game on then, Sirius Black.

"You were alone with him in the corridor." His tone was more accusing than the actual words.

"I don't need to explain myself to you."

Sirius narrowed his eyes at me and I pointed my gaze in return. I don't know exactly how long we stood there, locked in a stare down, but he won. I had more to hide than he did.

"My father wants him to persuade me to become a Death Eater." My voice was quiet and meek, the story close enough to the truth to make me nervous. I faltered. Why was I confiding in Sirius, of all people, anyway? Dumbledore's words about Sirius and I being in similar situations floated back to me. Chewing the inside of my lip, I tried to shift the spotlight off of myself. "But you understand that, don't you?"

It was a long shot. Dumbledore had never explicitly said that Black's family members were Death Eaters. I was bluffing and all he had to do was call me out on it; but he didn't.

"Stay away from Malfoy." The words were meant to be dangerous and threatening, but there was something else mixed in there as well. I could hear his footsteps retreating and I stayed where I was, thinking on it. It was the same thing I'd seen in his eyes on the train.

Sympathy.

**xxx**

It took me several dead ends, some changing staircases, and a lot of being lost to finally find the common room. Eventually, I'd swallowed my pride and asked one of the men in a nearby painting for directions. Not that it mattered much, since I didn't know the password and the Fat Lady refused to let me in. It wasn't until Remus came wandering back at some god-awful hour of the morning, and saw me curled up on the ground trying to use my arms as a pillow, that I finally made it inside.

"Sirius left you," was all he'd said before releasing a large sigh like he'd expected it would happen. I'd only nodded and we'd parted ways to our respective dormitories – which I found after only two wrong guesses. Score one for Pippa.

**xxx**

I woke up covered in sweat, my hair matted to my forehead and my heart racing. I don't know exactly what I had dreamt about, but the fear and anxiety stayed with me well after I'd sat up. I'd been running, of that much I was sure. Something was chasing me and they were much faster than I was.

Looking around the dormitory, I could see all of the other girls were still asleep. There was barely any light streaming through the window. It had to be before dawn, but sleep was lost to me. There was no way I'd calm down enough to slip back into unconsciousness.

Rather than lay in bed psyching myself out over my nightmares, I got up and decided to take a cold shower to relax. The freezing water stung my hot skin and felt so amazing and blissful that I ended up staying in there for a ridiculous amount of time. By the time I got out, the others were awake and making a point to ignore me.

It's not like I expected instant friends. I was new and the current gossip about me was probably terrible. I can only imagine the insane reasons people had come up with as to why I had suddenly needed to transfer to a different country in the middle of my schooling. Fortunately, none of the rumors would be nearly as crazy as the truth.

"They're jealous," Lily explained, occupying the mirror next to me. The others treatment of me must have been as obvious as I'd thought. I was attempting to apply charms to my hair to make it lay straight but her words distracted me, making me scoff.

"Of what?" I laughed, growing increasingly frustrated with my uncooperative hair. Lily knocked my wand away and, with one swift flick of her own, my hair was silky and smooth.

"It happens when you're seen with the Marauders." There was a resentful edge to Lily's voice. She must be a social leper then with all the attention she received from James. We shared a small, understanding smile in the mirror. With her tiny frame, flaming hair, and milky skin, Lily didn't need Veela blood to make girls bitter and envious.

"I have no interest in those boys," I stated plainly, busying myself with adjusting my robes. It was Lily's turn to scoff.

"Right. Once you get to know them, it's impossible not to find a soft spot for 'em." She was applying a similar charm to her hair, fussing with herself and her reflection.

"So, James then?" I gave her a wicked grin and her cheeks burned the same color of her hair.

"We should get to breakfast."

**xxx**

"OI! Lily! Pippa!" James was waving both his arms over his head as we entered the Great Hall. Despite the annoyed expression on Lily's face, I noticed her adjust her skirt and wet her lips before making her way over.

I took a seat across from Peter, next to James, not wanting to face Sirius or Remus after last night. Peter seemed a bit fidgety, so I gave him a smile as I loaded my plate with toast and fruit. The Salem Institute had been generous with our meals, but there was never anything like this.

"Do you know what classes you're in, Pippa?" Peter seemed to be coming out of his shell for me and I made a point not to mess it up and scare him off.

"Uhm, no, actually," I frowned, realizing I hadn't given my actual education much thought – there's a reason I'm not in Ravenclaw, you know. Did they even have the same courses here?

"Here's McGonagall with our timetables, so you'll know soon enough." True to Lily's word, the woman was slowly maneuvering down the table, stopping to hand out sheets of paper to overexcited students. When she finally arrived in front of us, she extended my schedule to me last.

"Due to your… circumstances, Miss Moore, we were unable to acquire your class preferences for this year. We have placed you in Astronomy and Ancient Runes." I took my schedule from her and eyed it steadily. Were they _trying_ to taunt me by giving me Astronomy? Star-gazing was something Xander and I did together. McGonagall must have noticed my sour expression. "If you are unhappy with this, we can –"

"No," I interrupted. The schedule was held tightly in my grip and I wasn't letting it go. I didn't need Xander to memorize some constellations. I could do this.

"Sirius can help you in Astronomy," James interjected, holding up his annoyed friend's schedule. "He has it too."

"I happen to do extremely well in Astronomy." I kept my voice cool and flippant, not wanting to reveal my apprehension. Sirius, however, seemed to sense it anyway and smirked.

McGonagall looked at me for a few more moments before moving on to the next group of Gryffindors.

"You'll have Ancient Runes with Remus and I," Lily said excitedly, comparing our schedules. We seemed to have all of our classes together aside from Astronomy, which worked out brilliantly. I wouldn't have to worry about getting lost. "OH! We all have Transfiguration, Herbology, Charms, Defense, _and_ Po- wait. Peter, you don't have Potions?"

The boy smiled sheepishly, shrugging. "I didn't pass my O.W.L."

"Nice goin', Wormtail!" James grinned and Sirius clapped Peter on the back, the boys sharing a laugh over what Lily seemed to find a completely unfunny situation. She began preaching about responsibility and positive study habits and the boys continued making fun. Eventually, grapes were being thrown in all directions and a displeased-looking McGonagall was making a beeline back to our table.

But I could do this, I realized, feeling a sudden jolt of optimism. If I kept by Lily and the Marauders, maybe Hogwarts wouldn't be so bad. I could stay here and be Pippa Moore, 6th Year Gryffindor. Not Pippa Moore, Half-Veela or Pippa Moore, daughter of the Dark Lord. I could start over, be someone else – someone worth being.

Boy was that feeling short-lived.

**xxx**

DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW! :)


End file.
